


Country

by SLWalker



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: (Skimmed over), Canonical Child Abuse, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Sith AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 11:51:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21493828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLWalker/pseuds/SLWalker
Summary: Obi-Wan and Maul are raised parallel, meant to be each other's dead man's switch, but Obi-Wan has other ideas.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Darth Maul
Comments: 40
Kudos: 313
Collections: Star Wars Rare Pairs Exchange 2019





	Country

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wrennette](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrennette/gifts).

> Despite the 'E' rating, it's not very explicit, but better safe than sorry. Thanks for letting me write for you, wrennette!

"Come with me," he said, and made no effort to hold back the raw desperation in his voice. "Come with me, and we can both be free."

Sidious would not be long behind him. But in front of him Maul stood, favoring his leg, smelling of burned skin and illness and gaunt from hunger; his lips were pulled back in warning, but despite what had to be every instinct screaming that this was his final test, that this was his trial, he didn't attack.

Obi-Wan could feel beyond Maul's shields, weakened by his state; could feel the paranoia and anxiety and that awful desperation to succeed or to please their mutual master, and because of that, he let his own shields fall completely.

He bared his heart and he begged, "Come with me."

Obi-Wan didn't remember a time before Master Sidious, not really. Somewhere there was some vague impression of-- warmth and safety, somewhere before memory was formed, but it was only a ghost that he clung to when the training was particularly painful or awful. He didn't know who his parents were, or why they had given him up to this man. His first formed memories were of discipline and disappointment; of withheld affection and long, grueling sessions of learning, which were rewarded with food and shelter, but nothing that he could understand as kindness.

It was a loveless existence, being tutored by droid and occasionally by Master Sidious himself, but Obi-Wan didn't know anything different. He knew he was important to some plan his Master had; that he had a specific role to fill. His training was in politics and diplomacy; in knowing which royalty to address by which title, in how to conduct himself in a way to cause no offense, in how to talk to people. He learned via preprogrammed holos and sometimes his Master would pretend to be someone else; Obi-Wan would run through greetings and small talk and eventually subtle, leading questions to gain information. He learned quickly; not doing so meant being hungry and cold and sleepless.

He also started learning how to use the Force. Specifically, how to use his mind to change the minds of others.

As he got a little older, Master Sidious started taking him offworld. During those times, his Master was called 'Uncle' for the duration and Obi-Wan was able to put his teaching to good use. He ate better in public, and dressed in something other than simple gray tunics and pants. He still wasn't exactly sure what it all meant, but he knew it meant _something_ important.

He must have been around nine then, those initial test runs. Old enough to know that he owed everything to his Master. His first performance in the public eye went so well that he was rewarded with a real bed, just for him, and a warm set of blankets to match.

It was also around then that he learned that there was another boy, too.

"He is being trained as an assassin," Master Sidious said, hands folded into his robes as he watched through the glass as the tiny zabrak boy attempted to defend himself from TD-D9 with a quarterstaff.

They had just gotten back from Obi-Wan's third 'trial' in the public eye; he didn't allow his disappointment to show at having to return to Mustafar after visiting the beautiful landscapes of Naboo. His Master's word was absolute law. So, Obi-Wan also didn't ask any questions when told to follow, which led to him standing here, watching another boy -- smaller than him -- try to evade the much larger droid.

The droid wasn't _kind_ to Obi-Wan; often, he administered punishments early on, when Obi-Wan got things wrong. But how he was treating the zabrak boy seemed downright _cruel_.

Obi-Wan knew better than to question his Master. Doing so was not only counter-productive, it was painful. Master Sidious would indulge his intellectual curiosity about subjects; Obi-Wan was even encouraged to understand art, fiction, poetry and philosophy because those were things which were important to diplomacy. But unless it was specifically related to his own studies, he was not to ask more.

Not even about the purpose of any of it.

As if he _had_ asked a question, Master Sidious said, "You would not survive that training. And as Nightbrothers are little better than animals, he would not be able to learn what you are capable of learning."

The boy on the other side of the glass was baring his teeth, and even as small as he was, he clearly had fangs. But when Obi-Wan stretched out with his still immature Force senses, all he found was an anger he could instinctively recognize as 'righteous', a sense of being treated unfairly, and at the same time, a desperate desire to please.

Just the same as his own. Just as real, and living, as his own.

"Yes, Master Sidious," he agreed, but he never forgot the doubt that lodged in his heart as he watched.

Years later -- when they were older, but before Obi-Wan would plead with Maul to run with him -- they spoke of it.

"Did you know I was there?" Obi-Wan asked, as they cooled down after training in Blackguard Forge, keeping his voice to a whisper. He and Maul were both experts at avoiding surveillance, but Master Sidious was still seemingly omnipotent.

"I could sense you." Maul finished his water and scrubbed his towel over his face; even now, he tended to view Obi-Wan warily, one part rival and one part companion, but during times like this when he was supposed to be honing Obi-Wan's fighting skills, the scales tipped more to the latter. Even then, he sneered a little as he added, "Your bleeding-hearted compassion, mostly. I'm surprised that Master didn't beat that out of you."

"I'm not sure he was aware I was feeling it." Whereas Maul was a fighter, through and through, and only learned how to shield his mind slowly over time -- and with Obi-Wan's help -- the mental disciplines had come quite naturally to Obi-Wan. Directed, layered shielding was not only necessary, but as easy for him to pick up as lightsaber combat was for Maul.

At that, Maul just scoffed.

They were only thirteen and sixteen, and only slaves bled more than they had by then. But it would still be a few of years before Obi-Wan would realize that that was what they were.

Obi-Wan took only two semesters at the Orsis Academy, in self-defense and poisons -- both the defense from and the use of -- and the rest of the time, he was privately tutored, bouncing between Naboo and the Blackguard Forge compound on Orsis, not far from the Academy. It didn't take him long to realize that Master Sidious had no real intentions for him to become a fighter on par with Maul, or for Maul to learn how to navigate social situations or politics like him.

Maul, unlike him, attended full-time, learning how to kill and how to infiltrate; how to slice computers and how to become invisible.

On one hand, it could have been they were being trained as counterparts to the grand scheme; two beings meant to function in harmony. More likely, though, Obi-Wan thought that they were each other's 'dead man's switch'. While he stood no chance of defeating Maul in combat, the older Obi-Wan got, the more adept he got at mental manipulation and using telepathy; he knew that if he survived the blade long enough, he could eventually overpower Maul that way. He also knew that he would be very hardpressed to survive the blade that long, too.

They were in a constant stalemate. That was what their Master wanted; he certainly didn't want them to care.

Their training sessions when they were in Master Sidious's view were vicious things. He encouraged their brutal competetiveness. And even though Obi-Wan absolutely _loathed_ the familiar burn of a training lightsaber striking his skin, or feeling Maul's suffering from the inside out when he finally broke through that shielding, it _was_ effective at teaching them to cover their weaknesses as well as those weaknesses could be covered.

The problem -- or the solution -- was that when Master Sidious _wasn't_ watching, they were something else.

Maul was terribly, achingly lonely. And Obi-Wan was also lonely, in his own way. And on that mutual feeling, they built something of a bond; nothing one could call brotherly, often not even particularly _friendly_, but perhaps best described as a kind of respect and an oft-reluctant protectiveness. When they trained alone -- which they did increasingly often as they got older and Sidious trusted his own indoctrination of them more -- they settled into different roles. Even when he berated Obi-Wan's lack of polish with a saber, Maul took teaching seriously; it rapidly got to the point that Obi-Wan had to act _less_ competent around their Master. For Obi-Wan's part, he taught Maul more careful shielding, and how to cover his weaknesses and protect his mind.

And sometimes, when no one was looking and they weren't teaching and learning, something else formed; Maul would bring up the nautolan girl he worked with often. Obi-Wan would give him advice on how to keep that relationship intact. Obi-Wan didn't think it was romantic -- at least not early on -- but as Maul grew older and more into his skin, it seemed to tip that way.

It was a dangerous way to feel about anyone, but it heartened Obi-Wan that Maul did. That somehow, in defiance of everything Master Sidious had tried to make him, Maul cared for this Kilindi Matako.

It couldn't last, though. And, it didn't.

"You're not supposed to be here."

Maul was covered in blood, yellow eyes glowing like coals in the night, when Obi-Wan came. He himself had only just built his own first lightsaber, but Maul had probably had to use sharp blades and melee weapons to wreak the havoc he had on the Orsis Academy. Obi-Wan could only sense three left alive, not counting them. Three, out of over a hundred.

Maul's tone now was deadened. If not for Obi-Wan's ability to read the other boy, he might have called it cold. 

Instead, another word sprung to mind: _Dissociated._

"Master set this up," Obi-Wan said, rushed, voice quivering momentarily before steadying. "Krako, the Nightsisters-- he set all of this up as a test of your loyalty. Including killing them."

That seemed to get a reaction; Maul blinked once at him, the eerie glow of his eyes fading slightly. A frisson of unease hung around him, then he shook his head. "I _am_ loyal. And I need to finish this," he said, his voice falling to almost a whisper on the last two words.

There was no doubt that Maul would not feel badly about killing Krako. Nor would Obi-Wan blame him. The Mandalorian had been cruel seemingly for little more than the desire to be, often bullying Maul when Maul was under orders not to reveal his Force abilities and defend himself properly. But Trezza and Kilindi Matako were different cases entirely, and they too were still waiting for their execution.

"I don't have time for this, Obi-Wan," Maul said, shaking his head and turning towards the administration offices, sounding more weary than angry now.

Obi-Wan followed, pulling his saber, ready to ignite it. "You take Krako. I'll take the other two. I'll make it quick."

He almost expected Maul to rebuff the offer. Could even feel the zabrak winding up to do so. But in the end, he said nothing more, and when they went into the office -- cutting through the barracading that had taken place in the meantime, as those inside tried to save themselves from this -- Obi-Wan took care of Trezza and Kilindi while Maul ripped Krako apart, snarling rage and an edge of grief for what was going on behind his back.

_I'm sorry,_ Obi-Wan Force-shoved into Kilindi's brain; her dark eyes went wide when the saber pierced her heart, but the pain was brief and over, and he lowered her gently to the ground so that Maul wouldn't have to.

By the time it was over, there was nothing but the sound of their own breathing, and of blood dripping on the hard stone floor.

For all they had been through, these represented their first kills; the first time they stole the lives of others. Surrounded by the stench of it, of death, Obi-Wan could see them as the unrepentant murderers they were, holding weapons over corpses.

And he could see them as the manipulated, heartsick, orphan boys they were, too.

And that was when he vowed he would save them both.

They moved to Coruscant after that.

Obi-Wan acted as a page in the Senate, honing his ability to manipulate. Maul kept training as an assassin. They lived in the Works otherwise, and Master Sidious didn't monitor them closely, presumably because he was certain of his control over them and because he was busy building on his own grand plan. They trained together and slowly the antagonism settled into something else, the first fanfares of an anthem they didn't know they were writing together.

They had both grown into their skin by then. Training was intense, often no-holds-barred, but instead of loathing one another as they were supposed to, they took a fierce joy in facing off and matching wit and weapon and skill.

It was that which led to them becoming each other's first kiss, a stolen moment during hand-to-hand training while their Master was in the Senate, a messy and inexpert clashing of teeth and lips and bodies. Obi-Wan had initiated it, but Maul gave it back as good as he got it, growling from his chest and half-clutching at Obi-Wan, half-pushing him away, and when they broke it off, they just stared at one another panting and bloody and suddenly in a new country that didn't belong to anyone but them.

They were each other's second kiss, too. Just the same initially, a clash and battle as much as anything else. But this time it softened, gentled before the end, until they were breathing lip to lip; fingers wound in tunics, noses brushing, the Force around them coiled tight like some great serpent, armor or noose.

Their third kiss was very nearly their last because their Master found out.

The punishment was swift and stunningly brutal, and if Obi-Wan had harbored any doubts about their status as slaves before, he knew it very well after.

If he harbored any hopes about their purpose or potential lifespans if they stayed with their Master, those were dashed, too.

Two years later, he stood on Hypori during Maul's final trials, and begged for both their lives.

"He'll follow us to the ends of the galaxy. You _know_ he can," Maul said, some note of pleading cutting into his otherwise low, rough tone.

"He can, but he _won't_," Obi-Wan insisted; he held his hands out from his sides, showing he had no weapons to defend himself. A silent message: _My life is in your hands. Take it now, or come away with me._ "He isn't Chancellor yet, Maul. He's just the Senator from Naboo, he can't afford to take off and chase us and we can take any bounty hunters he tries to send in his place. So we set a course, and we run, and we never look back again."

Maul shifted his weight, eyes narrowing from the pain of the motion. "If he succeeds in his plans, he will then. At best, we buy a few years."

"Then we have a few years." Obi-Wan stepped closer, defenseless in every way a man could be, unarmored and staring at Maul through tear blurred eyes. "A few years where we belong to no one but each other."

It was asking for everything, and he knew it. They were balancing on a knife-edge they couldn't so much as breathe on. On one side a lifetime of training; on the other, the country they formed between them. Either side was sacrifice. If they left, they were giving up every resource they had access to, giving up whatever purpose they served for the Sith. If they stayed, they would remain slaves to a Master who would eventually discard them. Of that, Obi-Wan was certain.

"Do you have a ship?" Maul asked, and the fact he was even asking at all made Obi-Wan's heart soar.

"I stole Senator Sedd's ship. I airlocked the crew in spacesuits near a travel lane so we'd look like pirates, and so we won't be pursued for murder," he answered, leaning in and resting his brow against Maul's, which was so hot that it was physically uncomfortable. "It's fast. Fully stocked, including a small medbay."

He could hear Maul's blade humming away to his left. A tipping point. Maul could finish him easily and cleanly with a thrust right now and that would be one of two answers. The Force flowed between them, a feedback loop of terror and anger and exhaustion and desperation; Obi-Wan could feel the push and the pull, the beautiful and the horrible. If he died here, he would not be sorry. There was no returning to what he was before, now that he had stolen that ship and come here. Master would not be far behind him.

Either way, it would be a final answer; either way, he would be free. It was up to Maul to decide if they would both be.

Right before their stalemate ended, Obi-Wan felt the quietest kind of hope flit between them. 

_Three years later..._

"I still don't like it," Maul grumbled.

Obi-Wan laughed, tipping his head to the side; even while he was declaring his dislike of Obi-Wan's still-growing beard, Maul was scraping his teeth just under the line of it. "Not all change is bad," Obi-Wan said back, after shuddering in pleasure for the sensation. "You'll get used to it."

All he got in reply was a noncommittal grunt as Maul sucked another mark into Obi-Wan's neck, to go with the several already there. Obi-Wan let him finish, then pressed his thumbs into the hollows of Maul's hips, pushing his own up at the same time, burying himself back into the perfect heat of Maul's body and forcing his eyes open so he could watch that expression of bliss above him.

There was no perfection other than what they could chase in moments like these. They both suffered nightmares. The fault lines left in their psyches by their upbringing made everything harder; Obi-Wan might have been trained to mingle, but never to _belong_, and Maul had a hard time even viewing himself as anything but a weapon. It was too easy for them to slip into survival-mode and hard for them to get back out of it. They had to use every bit of their cunning just to keep themselves afloat, in terms of supplies and fuel. Remaining hidden cut their options drastically. They were always on guard anytime they were near civilization, waiting for their Master to finally find them and put an end to them.

But for now, they were laying in trampled grass on some unnamed Wild Space world, their eighth ship (and first gained legitimately) sitting dozens of meters away, with their nerve-endings singing the anthem Obi-Wan had first felt years before as they made love in a country of their own.


End file.
